


Empty Pleasure

by Niccolo



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Being horrible to Holland, Holland's past, Multi, Probably Prae Shades of Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15454422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niccolo/pseuds/Niccolo
Summary: If the tags didn't make it clear: Holland gets raped, because the Danes are cruel and I am horrible. And no one suffers as beautifully as Holland.





	Empty Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help but think that those three have the kind of chemistry that makes something like this having happened quite possible in my opinion. So I ended up writing it.

He stepped into the room. Athos’ bedroom. A lavish thing. Dark, wooden furniture in stark contrast to the white walls. A heavy armchair close to a fireplace. Spirits of various kinds overflowing a table, the glass of the bottles breaking the light and painting bleak colors on the wall and floor close by.

And in the middle an enormous bed on which at the moment lay Astrid in a lazy sprawl, clothed in a crisp white dressing gown. Her eyes resting on him.

Behind him Athos closed the door and Holland felt his heartbeat spike. He knew what was coming and he dreaded it. Though of course he let nothing of his discomfiture show on his face or in his posture. Steps echoed through the room and he could feel Athos’ presence in his back. His smell that was more ash than stone, with a sharpness like a chill. And he could feel the binding spell in his bones sing with its masters closeness.

„Undress“, Athos commanded.

Holland moved before the spell would make him, lifting his hand to the silver clasp, opening it and removing his half cloak, letting it drop to the floor. His hands moved to his collar, opening the buttons, loosening his jacket. Astrid’s watchful gaze upon him.

He hated this intimacy they forced upon him. More than anything it made him feel like a toy. Like a little pupped used for their amusement. Stripped of any will of his own.

Which in the end he was.

Holland moved to take the jacket off and Athos helped him, his hands trailing over his shoulders and down his arms, peeling the jacket off like the outer layer of a fruit, readying it to be devoured. Holland gathered his shirt together and drew it over his head, letting it fall on the growing pile of clothes. He bowed to take off his shoes and socks, then straightened again to open his trousers. They joined the pile on the ground and finally his undergarment, leaving him naked.

A hand in his back, cold as stone, and Athos pushed him towards the bed. Holland took a step and a second and all the steps necessary until he reached the bed. Astrid awaited him with a hungry smile.

Athos stepped close again, his left hand came to rest on Hollands shoulder and with the other he caressed his cheek. Fingers trailed over his lips, moved down to his collarbone, caressed his chest. Athos’ hands moved over his body as if to take in its shape. While Astrid watched him being on display for her.

And then Athos’ hand moved between his legs and Holland could not help the surprised sound in his throat and the flick of his head, betraying his indifference as a lie. He recovered quickly though, plastering calm on his face again. Just the tiniest reaction. But it was what the Danes were hunting for. He could see the amusement in Astrid’s eyes.

Athos’ hand trailed over his stomach, and Holland could feel him in his back now. Not just his presence, his body. He forced himself to breath evenly, to remain calm. Only his heartbeat quickened, making his blood run faster and his skin heat up.

„Come“, Astrid said, calling him with an outstretched arm. Another push in his back and Holland’s knee and hand hit the mattress. He moved on, climbing onto the bed and toward Astrid. Her outstretched hand touched his cheek, moved to his neck and drew him down. Their lips touched and for a moment it could have been no more than a simple, shallow kiss. Then Astrid bit down on his lip, hard enough that blood welled up. He could taste it on his tongue, as she drank it up and then kissed him deeper. Her hand tangled in his hair, holding him down, holding him close. She kissed with a ferocity and hunger that made Holland recoil, fighting to get free. When he finally managed it, rocking back on his heels, his shoulders were caught in another pair of hands. Trapped again. Fear spiked his heartbeat. His chest moved in a quick terrified breath, before he could wrestle the emotion down again. He held himself still then. Very still.

Athos’ lips pressed against his neck, moved down to the hollow where neck and shoulder met and remained there for a moment caressing his skin. In front of him Astrid opened her dressing gown and tossed it aside, revealing her pale limbs. She sat up and moved towards him, her hand brushing through his hair, her fingers touching his lips and then falling down to his chest. Moving over skin in lines and curves. It took him a moment to realize, that she was trailing the lines of Athos’ binding spell.

A hand moved along his leg, Athos’ hand this time. He moved closer and Holland could feel Athos’ naked skin against his own. So he had undressed, too. Athos’ arm circled around his hip and moved once again between his legs. This time Holland did not react. Athos hand moved against his cock, caressing it. But Holland remained calm. He could think of a hundred more arousing things than having Athos play with him. 

Killing him for example.

The corners of his mouth twitched and suddenly he had Astrid in front of him, staring into his eyes. He stared back, the flicker of amusement dying and leaving nothing than hollowness in its wake.

„Let me“, Astrid said.

Athos’ hands disappeared, and then Holland could feel them on his shoulders instead, trailing down his arms and grabbing his wrists to pull them behind his back. Astrid smiled and leaned forward into Holland’s lap, her lips slightly parted. Her tongue licked the tip of his cock and Holland rocked back into Athos’ chest. A low chuckle following his reaction, Athos’ hands closing tighter on his wrists.

And Astrid continued to focus her attention on his lower bits. He could feel sensation spread through his body, warming it. Could feel his cock harden. He did not fight it. As so many things he had long ago given up denying them this. They would always go on until he lost. Now it was just another way in which they used his body. He told himself so again and again while Astrid sucked his cock and he gradually lost against sensation.

„See“, Astrid said. „He likes me better.“

It wasn’t that he liked Astrid better. It was more a matter of hating her less than Athos.  
She moved closer, climbing into his lap and guided his cock towards her entrance. Their bodies slid together, her legs beside his own.

A slow breath escaped his lips. His hands twitched in Athos’ grip as his body tensed. Astrid’s tits pressed against his body, her arms circled his neck. And she moved her hip against him, moaning openly.

He kept silent. Although he could feel the arousal burn under his skin and feel his attention being drawn down. And then she threw herself backwards, pulling him with her to the bed. His wrists slipped from Athos’ grasp and he caught himself with his elbows beside her head.

„Yes“, Astrid breathed, still moving her hip against his. He could feel an unspoken curse burn in his throat as he got drawn more and more in.

And then he could feel Athos’ hands on his body again. Wet against his ass rubbing his anus and then his finger sliding in. Holland’s hands dug into the blankets as he could see Astrid watch his every expression, and feel Athos’ finger move inside him, feel a second one sliding in. They moved, trying to stretch his inside, but his body was still tense. They left and something else pressed against his ass. Demanding entrance. It pushed, first slow and then more strongly. But Holland’s body did not yield. Because all pretense of indifference only brought you so far. And it was an undeniable fact that he did not want this.

Under him Astrid’s movements had slowed, then stopped. Athos’ hands dug into his side.  
„Kajt“, Athos swore. „Let me in.“

He wasn’t sure Athos had meant it as a command, but the magic reacted anyway. Tension bleeding out of Holland’s body and Athos sliding in with a grunt.

And Holland could feel Athos inside. How his muscles clenched around Athos cock. And he hated it. Hated Athos for doing it. Hated his body for yielding. Hated himself for hating himself.  
Astrid begann to move again, and then Athos moved, thrusting into him with abandon. Astrid’s nails raked his back, holding him down, holding him close to her. His fingers curled into the blanket his body tense once more. Athos’ hands dug into his hip as he thrusted. Their bodies moved together. Sensation blurred the edges of Holland’s mind. Trapped between the two he was forced to move along. Their moans and grunts filled his ears, he just barely held himself up, so as not to be crushed into Astrid, their bodies flush against each other. His breath hitched, but focused on their bodily pleasure the Danes might just have missed the slip. The barest acknowledgement of his own arousal.

Astrid came first. He knew because she bit into his shoulder as she did. And then Athos did. He came, too. But at that point it was just a matter of putting an end to what had been started. No satisfaction in it.

Athos pulled back and Holland moved away from Astrid, allowing himself to sink back on the bed for a moment, exhaustion spreading through his body, his mind. His chest labored with deep breaths while his heart was still racing from the exertion. At least it was over. And then he could feel Astrid move up against him. She clutched his arm like a favorite toy and let her head rest against his shoulder, her eyes falling closed. On the other side Athos pulled the blanket over them, before throwing an arm over Hollands middle. He moved his lips towards Hollands ear.

„Guard“, he commanded before resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes too.

And Holland lay there between the two Danes, Astrid to his right, Athos to his left. He stared up at the ceiling and gritted his teeth, allowing himself that sign of emotion. And while sleep eluded him he watched over the Danes. To make sure that no one came to kill them when they were weakest. 

While all he wanted to do was kill them both himself.


End file.
